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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751504">In The Morning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflyAndTheStoryJar/pseuds/FireflyAndTheStoryJar'>FireflyAndTheStoryJar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Before the Festival, Behind the Scenes, Brothers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's short but meh, They take care of each other ok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:47:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflyAndTheStoryJar/pseuds/FireflyAndTheStoryJar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy can't always be there, but on mornings like these, he can be Wilbur's shoulder to cry on.</p><p>----</p><p>Beware, there's a few small spoilers in here for the Dream SMP Election and Festival arcs. I would suggest catching up with explanation videos and looking up key clips before reading.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In The Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ah yes, I'm in this fandom too. I just love their brotherly bond, both in roleplay and not, I can't help it.<br/>I wrote this because I was thinking of how sad Wilbur's situation was before the Final War arc, so I decided to write a short story with some comfort for him and Tommy. I hope you enjoy this short piece!</p><p>Also, the ending line is from an original Dream SMP song by Renata Kanaya! Go give her and her work some love!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Days were melting into one another, after their exile. Even with the help they were so lucky to get, seeing the walls being torn down and their flag-- not the flag, why?-- burned to ashes had morale low for Tommy. He’d live, he still had hope of getting their great nation back to how it was before… Him. But Wilbur… he wasn’t the leader he knew him to be of L’Manburg. No, this man was something different. A shell of what remained; that being anger, hysteria, and so much anguish. More than once did Tommy catch the older man picking at his old uniform jacket with a dark scowl, the garment more of an iron grey than a deep navy color, with rips, patches, and lost decorations of rank and other garnishes adoring it. It was unnerving to stumble across him during those times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t just that though. Insanity had set in, that much became obvious when Wilbur started to plan the fall of Manburg. Explosives underneath the entirety of the remade city, set off with a single push of button. Everything… Everything falling to ashes and rubble after a massive explosion. It scared the teen to see his friend so… gone. So fucking gone. A madman siding with an age long foe, letting the masked man threaten his life if he got in the way. Confiding in Tubbo helped, but seeing the madness every time they were together (that was a lot, nowadays), he was reminded of the potential slaughter of anyone and everyone at the Festival. But then there were days where the anger and crazy quieten, leaving Wilbur topside looking at a stream that ran through the trees nearby. Days like today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wil?” Tommy asked from a little ways off, the early morning sun just starting to glint on the clear stream. The older man didn’t reply, but his head shifted somewhat in the direction of Tommy’s voice. His wavy hair was everywhere, his soft crimson beanie gone and leaving the dark chocolate strands to be wild in the gentle, cold wind. The blonde stepped over in his own torn up uniform coat, the season changing and forcing him to wear it to keep warm in the morning. He sat with his friend and looked at the gleaming stream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...she ran down this stream, right here. Left him in his crib and ran out in the morning. I tried to chase her, but… she turned into her salmon form and swam off. I wonder… if I had listened to her before this all started, would everything be ok? Would F..Fundy still be with me, or… or would she still be here with him, at least? Would none of this bullshit have happened?” Wilbur muttered in the silence of the morning, the birds softly singing as they awoke with the sun. Tommy didn’t have any response to those questions, only able to weakly shrug and tug at his soft green bandana idly. Wilbur scoffed wetly, wiping his eyes under his circle glasses before taking them off and pocketing them. “No, it would’ve happened… maybe Quackity and Schlatt would be fighting like we are instead, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stream gurgled on as it ran along its destined path, and Tommy looked to the disheveled leader. He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe… but we’re here, making it… I don’t like what you want to do, but… I’m here, Wilbur…” He assured. Those words sparked a reaction Tommy hadn’t been gunning for; Wilbur broke into quiet sobs, his knees coming up so he could curl into a sitting fetal position. He had lost so much in his lifetime, and to hear words he didn’t know if he could ever believe again broke him. Not knowing if he could trust Tommy, his friend and brother that he considered to be his one and only right hand man in this damn world, broke him even further. He sobbed into his arms as the months of stress boiled over and spilled out of him through his eyes and mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hugged him as best as he could after only a second of hesitation, not willing to let go of his friend. The man may be insane, sure, but it was still Wilbur, his older brother that did his best before the election and the tearing down of L’Manburg. He needed at least one person there by his side, even if the teenager couldn’t stay truly loyal. The two outcasts stayed there for the early morning… the pig man wouldn’t need them until the sun was higher in the sky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'll let it burn... I'll let it... burn..."</em>
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